


Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely

by gaialux



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dress Up, F/M, Lingerie, Power Play, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:35:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/pseuds/gaialux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan, Gloria, and the exchange of power (and a bit of love).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely

**Author's Note:**

> Canon divergent AU -- Ryan went to prison, is now out (and still relatively young). Written for kinkbingo using the prompts "dressup" and "power exchange".
> 
> Oz is not mine. I just like to play around with the characters for fun, not profit.

Ryan likes the lack of control. After years and years ( _and years and years_ ) of being forced to constantly watch his back, to play people, to kill and bribe and  _survive_ , she's the thing that made it all go away. It only took him five years and, in contrast, was hardly any time at all. Now Gloria's all about control, and Ryan fucking loves it.

"This is hot," he says, hand rising to slide along the thick strip of black around her throat. He can fit a finger between it and her skin, tugs her closer for a kiss until she slaps his hand away. He looks up at her. "The rest of you is hot, too."

Instead of answering, she presses a kiss behind his ear before pushing him down against the bed. He hesitates, but a hard shove sends him onto his back with Gloria looking down at him. She  _is_ hot, keeps getting hotter every year. Especially when she adds the collar and see-through bra thing she's got going on. He's not so sure about the garter (too hard to get to where he  _wants_ to get), but apparently that's part of her _control_ , and that's what he thrives on.

"Should take this off," he says anyway, and goes to one of the clips tying it down.

She swats his hand away. "Stop talking, Ryan."

"Yes Ma'am." Wicked grin, because it doesn't matter how much  _control_ she gets, it's always Gloria. Just that. Just the word that means fucking everything.

He lets her guide his hands up over his head, crossed at the wrist. "You want to try that again?"

"You wanna fuck me?"

Lightning fast, Gloria's hands go from his wrists to his knees, pulling his legs far apart enough that it hurts. He hisses out, catches himself, and turns it into a laugh. He's expecting her own expression to change -- she usually gets pissed, he kinda likes it -- but her face is more thoughtful. Looking  _through_ him instead of at him. He moves one foot slowly, running it up the silky-smooth stocking on her leg.

"Gloria," he says, softly, as he reaches the dip behind her knee.

Her eyes re-focus, her breathing hitches, and he moves his toes in a circle over the groove. He looses the shit-eating grin and replaces it with a softer smile. Before long, she's back with it. One of her hands twists through his hair, pulling him up for a kiss that goes deeper, deeper until his foot falls away and he completely forgets about everything exceptGloria which, really, should be all he thinks about in the first place. No more need to scheme and control. Now he just has time to  _enjoy_.

"What do you want?" he asks when she breaks away.

One hand goes back to his, lacing their fingers together, and she moves further up. Pins his thighs under her body. He kisses her again, arching up to reach, because kissing Gloria is something that never, ever gets old. Especially now that she actually  _kisses back_ and brings that hand she's entwined with to her breast, running his fingers over the fabric covering her skin. She moves his hand lower, rubbing against the g-string until she gasps.

"Gloria, come on," he says up at her. He  _needs_ this. Feels like he constantly does, no matter how many years they manage together. Can't help thinking it'll all go to shit one day, he'll land back in prison just like  _Dad_.

"I'm calling the shots here," she says, but it's really too breathy for him to take it as a threat. Still, he doesn't try again, just swirls his thumb over her clit and  _loves it_ when she presses harder against his fingers. Eventually, she does say, "You can."

 _You can_ means he can ditch the garter, yank down her panties, and kiss her again and again while she lowers down onto him. Then that's  _it_. It'll always be what he needs. Prison melts away and he grips his hands into her hips as she grinds against him and repeats, "Ryan, _Ryan_ " near his ear. He'd be lying if he said he never knew this would happen. The amount he  _loved her_ from the first day, even more than the first _time_ that was better than any sex. Ever. He knew, he fucking  _knew_ \--

She bites down on his neck and he feels her tighten,  _pulling_ the orgasm out of him. He holds her close, listens to more of the litany of " _Ryan, Ryan_ " that she keeps up with  _for him_ \-- he knows that. From the second it was a first-name basis he wants to hear the word trip-off her tongue. Nobody's ever said it the way he needs to hear it except _her_ (and maybe Cyril, but Cyril's  _different_ and Ryan always feels like his chest is being ripped out when his brother says his name now).

When the 'Ryan's' finally die down she pulls out of him, rolling onto her side and he follows. Kisses her, softly, and she wraps an arm around his neck, slides fingers through his hair. That's how they stay and, cheesy as he knows it is, how he'd be happy to always stay.


End file.
